Plush and Porcelain
by Matrix Refugee
Summary: A romantic interlude between Muraki and Ukyou, his fiancee, doesn't go as planned when a small plush stowaway turns up between the covers.


**Title**: Plush and Porcelain

**Author**: "Matrix Refugee"

**Rating**: PG-13 (mild sexual content, nothing graphic; also some sick humor)

**Pairing**: Kazutaka Muraki/Ukyou Sakuraiji

**Genre**: Romance/humor/WAFF

**Chapter** (if applicable): One-shot

**Comments**: Spoilers for later volumes of the manga, particularly the Vol 12 chapters, which have yet to be released in the States (though several scanlation sites host them) -- yeah, I was stunned to find out that the smirking bastard has a lady friend, which got me wondering what the hell she could possibly be like… so imagine my shock when it turns out she's normal albeit somewhat frail and sickly. A bit of funny fluff that popped into my head when my mother and I were giving a Hello Kitty plushie a bath (some of the wry hilarity that ensues was based on something absurd that happened involving said plushie playing music and randomly lighting up in the middle of the night). Also, if Muraki sounds… different here, it's because he's with Ukyou: I imagine he's a very different person when she's around; she's what keeps a small part of him human. Theirs seems to be very much a "beauty and the beast" romance and it's one I'm looking forward to exploring both in the series and in fanfiction…

And I'm sure Hello Kitty is about the only thing that gives Muraki the creeps.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Yami no Matsuei, aka Descendants of Darkness, it's characters, concepts and other indicia, which are the intellectual property of Yoko Matsushita, Hiroko Tokita, Manga Entertainment, Viz Media, Hakusensha, et al. I don't own Hello Kitty, either, which belongs to Sanrio.

* * *

Two tickets to the New National Theatre Ballet's production of _The Nutcracker_. It wasn't Muraki's favorite -- some of the more painful chapters in his past had taken place around Christmas and while he couldn't avoid the holiday entirely, he tried to minimize his exposure to things that reminded him of it -- but Ukyou wanted to see it. As a girl, she had wanted to train for the ballet, but the anemia and the fibromyalgia that still plagued her had kept her from making that dream a reality. He made this worth his while by getting a hotel room for the both of them that night: they needed some time alone where no one would be suspicious. She always demurred when he told her to pack an overnight bag, but this was merely one of the steps in their odd dance of courtship.

They were on their way out of the theatre when a former colleague of his father's caught up with them, with the usual chatter: How long has it been? Are you still maintaining your father's practice? And then the inevitable, "Oh, is this young lady your cousin?" and the customary look of surprise and a sputtered apology when he introduced a shy Ukyou as his fiancée and childhood friend. It was understandable: though she was only two years younger than he, she looked like a slight, frail girl of fifteen, staying close to his side as if for protection, the top of her head just barely level with his shoulder. Ukyou handled the interloper's gaffe with her usual quiet grace, but Muraki found himself seething within for a moment: he knew through his network of intelligence that the interloper had a niece with leukemia; there was always a way to have her referred over to the clinic…

He snapped out of this reverie: the interloper was moving on, goodbyes and well-wishes were being exchanged and Ukyou had slipped her small hand into the crook of his arm. "You look tired and cross," she said, looking up at him.

"I'm getting too old for these late nights," he said with a chuckle.

She giggled. "Oh don't be silly, you're only thirty-five."

"Old enough to know better, not yet wise enough to know ones limits," he said, escorting her out onto the snowy pavement.

A short cab ride and then up to the suite; he drew a scented bath for her and helped her to undress, which always set her blushing all over. Because of her reticence about being touched -- a wound left behind by an abusive uncle, who had paid dearly for harming her -- he had to go slowly with her and at times, refrain from the most intimate contact. This left part of his inner demons frustrated, but he had made a promise to himself never to let her come to harm.

When she grew sleepy against his shoulder, he helped her out of the bath and dried her off before carrying her to the bedroom. She protested bashfully as he laid her on the pillows and lay down beside her before leaning over her --

Something close beside her pillow starting playing an absurd little nursery tune and out of the corner of his good eye he saw a small red light blinking.

"What the devil?" he muttered, glaring toward the light.

"Oh dear, I should have warned you, I brought along a Hello Kitty plush," she said. "It was a Christmas present from one of my girl friends at the office." Sure enough, nestled against the side of her pillow was a small pink Hello Kitty plush, red LED lights in its cheeks blinking in time to the tune. It finally stopped after a moment.

"Does it do that often?" he asked.

"Only if you squeeze her, you must have put your hand right on her," she said.

As if by magic, the tune started to play again. "I did not touch it that time," he said.

"Neither did I," Ukyou said, giggling. "Please, Hello Kitty, could you stop playing that little song? It's nice, but …we grown folk need some, well…"

The tune stopped again, but the glow did not quite leave the cheeks of the plush. "I'm not sure as if there's room enough in this bed for the three of us," he said, trying to joke, but his demon was aroused and wanted to shred the small plush intruder.

As if on cue, the tune started up again and began looping for no apparent reason, going on and on and on for several minutes. He looked at Ukyou, thinking, _Now what? Is that thing possessed of some trickster spirit?_

"That's disturbing," he muttered, glaring at the cat.

"It _is_ getting annoying," Ukyou said, trying not to laugh.

"That cat can't stay here," Muraki muttered, adamant.

"If she quiets down, it won't be so bad. Besides, she's cute."

He turned over onto his side, putting himself between Ukyou and the plush, so that his back was to it, but he had the creepy feeling that the little thing was staring at him, its unblinking gaze drilling two little holes between his shoulders. "Besides that absurd music, there's those soulless eyes, staring at you, like pits opening onto the void, ready to swallow you…"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Kazu-kun. She's cuddly, not like those porcelain dolls of yours."

"Those dolls serve to remind me of how frail human life is, but that cat… ugh, there's no depth to her, nothing of significance."

"Well, she's only supposed to be cute and cuddly."

"And that's what I find bothersome about her."

"Oh hush, Kazu-kun, you're acting silly. Don't tell me you're afraid of her, a grown man like you?"

"We aren't having this discussion," he murmured, closing his eyes.

She knew better than to argue, and she got the feeling he was genuinely tired and not interested in discussing the matter, which was trivial to say the least. "Do you want me to put her in the next room?" she asked.

"It would keep that thing from disturbing us again," he said.

She got up and finding his shirt, pulled it on and took the plush cat into the front room. Looking around for an ideal nook, she tucked the plush into the nest of pillows on the sofa. "I hate to do this to you, but you'll keep us awake and he needs his sleep."

Almost as if it were promising to be good, the plush stopped blinking and playing music. She had to laugh softly at this before she returned to the bedroom

She settled down next to him; he opened his good eye and slipped his arm about her, but some of the earlier warmth had left him and the romantic ardor she had felt had gone completely.

He relaxed beside her, letting her think he had fallen asleep. He felt her breathing settle into a quiet rhythm, and when he was sure that she slept, he crept out from between the covers slowly, slipping the pillow on which he had rested his head, under her arm. She shifted, but did not awaken.

He had to be rid of the blasted thing and his first thought, as he shrugged into his bathrobe, was to take the plush and drop it off the balcony. However, the g-force would probably cause it to brain a passerby below and he preferred to make his kills intimately and up close, the better to draw off the escaping life force. As he stood over the couch where the plush lay nestled, he thought of shredding it and dumping it into the wastebasket, but there was the risk Ukyou could find it, and the last thing he wanted to do was offend her, even for something small.

A fleeting memory popped into his head: the day Veronica, his favorite doll, had disappeared when he was ten, the doll destroyed by his mother in a fit of jealousy brought on by her increasing insanity. He winced, pushing the image away. A small thing, but it had been the first of many painful moments which had made him what he was, had made him vow never to let anyone get between him and whatever he prized. And one of those things was Ukyou's affection and love.

"All right," he murmured. "It can stay. But not a flicker of light, not a note of that ridiculous song, am I making myself clear? If not, I will have no choice but to eviscerate you." _This woman making me go soft_, he thought.

* * *

Ukyou awoke deep in the night, feeling Kazutaka's arms about her, the top of her head tucked under his chin, the way he always held her during their nights together, as if he would shield her from anything nasty that threatened her. She nestled back against his chest and glanced toward the edge of the pillow.

The Hello Kitty plushie sat nestled against the pillow, its face turned toward the headboard. He must have gotten up in the night and placed it there. _He's so considerate,_ she thought with a smile. _He put aside his own annoyance and put her back. Now don't disturb him, he might get angry and that wouldn't go well._


End file.
